Under Red Skies
by Shanks1Piece
Summary: Captain Shanks and Ben Beckman find themslves on a strange island where they meet a young woman. However there is more to the island, and to the woman, than it first seems, and the bounty hunters chasing them the entire way don't make things easier


Heloo everyone-new here and this is my first fanfic so enjoy! The two characters at the end of this chapter are of my own making and there are anothetr two characters which I plan to introduce later. Thanks for all who R&R!

**Chapter 1Storm**

Captain "Red-Haired" Shanks gazed across the violent sea as a lightning bolt illuminated the night sky. He gripped the rain soaked railing hard as his ship rocked back and forth while the brutal wind howled in his ear. Below him, his crewmates were sliding across the deck doing various tasks, only to be interrupted when a fresh wave washed over the deck.

"We have a problem captain."

Shanks turned to see his first mate, Ben Beckman, slip across the deck using his large rifle for support. Shanks wiped the wet hair from his face as he gave Ben a questioning look.

"There's a small tear in the sail," Ben continued as the crew shouted angrily, being blasted by a fresh wave, "it's all right for now, but if we keep going like this the entire sail is going to rip apart."

Shanks stared up at the soaked sail. He could see the small tear towards the top, its length increasing by every bellow of the wind. Calmly, he looked across the sea again as a lightning bolt wrapped the ship in a yellow glow. On the horizon, Shanks could see a large shape silhouetted against the stormy sky.

"Don't worry men, Shanks shouted, smiling, "we're almost there! I can see the island in the distance!"

Cheers erupted from the deck as Shanks sat down on the watery deck with his back against the railing. They had been sailing nonstop for almost two weeks without any sign of an island; however the warming weather did hint that they were close. A group of marines had been trailing them the entire time, but he was almost positive that they were at the bottom of the ocean by now. Influenced by the hope of the island, Shanks could hear the crew below hurrying to move the ship faster.

"So, what island is this?" Ben asked, stepping forward just as a wave slammed into the boat nearly tipping it on its side.

Ben shot forward from the unexpected shock of the wave, and even the railing couldn't stop his momentum. Shanks stood, and managed to grab Ben's leg just in time with his one arm. Carefully he balanced on the slippery deck as he backed away to pull Ben up, the muscle in his arm straining. Suddenly, the entire scene flashed white as a lightning bolt came down upon the ship.

"Captain, look out!"

Shanks turned to see the mast of the ship falling towards him with the base severed by the lightning bolt. Without thinking, he jumped forward to avoid the falling mast. The mast landed hard on the deck, crumpling the wood and sending Shanks flying over the railing.

Shanks gasped for air as he came to the surface, and saw his precious ship sailing away from him, the wood ignited in flame from the lightning bolt. He reached with his hand and called out, but the shout was muffled by the roaring of the thunder. With shock he stared at the boat, and then at his hand.

Ben was gone.

Frantically, Shanks dived into the water. The salty water stung his eyes as he searched the murky depths. Down he swam, deeper and deeper only coming up for breath when his lungs had reached their limit.

Ben was nowhere to be found.

Once more, he dived down into the water, kicking as hard as he could. He wouldn't let his crewmate die as long as he lived. He swirled his head, but only saw a few school of fish. His lungs started to burn so he rushed up for air, when suddenly he hit his head hard on a rocky wall. Confused, he felt the wall with his hand, but no matter how far he swam the wall never ended.

He was trapped in an underwater cave.

Panic seeped in as Shanks searched frantically for a way out. The salt started to sting his bloody hands as he moved them across the wall at a furious rate. By now, his lungs were on fire, gasping for oxygen. Slowly, Shanks saw his eyesight fade away as the water around him slowly started to turn black. Shanks now kicked even harder. He wouldn't give up, and he wouldn't die in some unknown cave.

Finally the scene around him became completely dark.

He felt air….

Shackle closed his eyes as the afternoon sun bathed him with warmth. The sea was calm and the frequent breeze felt good on his face. He started to drift into sleep when a loud crash sounded from behind him, followed by the occasional angry muttering.

"Damnit, I was just about to fall asleep," Shackle shouted at the marine loudly, "all I did was ask you to get the map, but through your idiocy you still managed to screw it up. Can't you do anything right?"

Shackle opened his eyes to see the marine face down in a pile of papers and books. The marine stood ands glared at Shackle, but managed to hold his tongue; even though his hands were shaking with rage. His entire body, except for his face, was covered with a mysterious, brown cloak that he never took off. His short, blonde hair ruffled in the wind as he laid out a small, dust covered map on the floor of the ship and searched it with his icy blue eyes.

"So, idiot," Shackle continued pleased with himself, "where's our next destination?"

The marine twitched with anger, but managed to keep his voice calm when he spoke, "The next island is called Guarnia, but something is wrong…."

"Well, what is it?" Shackle asked impatiently as he took a swig from a day old bottle of grog.

"The city on this island is completely underwater."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Shackle shouted, "how can an entire city be underwater unless it's run by mermen?"

"I'm just reading the map," the marine said as he lay down on the floor of the ship.

Shackle's stomach growled in protest as he picked up another bottle of grog. He walked to the storage room, but when he opened it the only rations that were left were a few pieces of meat and fruit; barely large enough to last a day.

"Good job idiot," Shackle said as he bit into a discolored apple, "I'm going to take a rest. Wake me when we get to the island."

Finally the marine lost his tongue, and stood with rage, "My name is Lobster, damnit, and I'm not an idiot! You think you can get away with kidnapping me, you won't! Sooner or later the marines will find you!"

"Shut up! You're an idiot until you can prove yourself otherwise, which will be a long time from now," Shackle said as he threw the apple core into the sea and walked below deck.


End file.
